Children of Circumstance
by Darth-Blackadder
Summary: My own take on the story arcs of SWTOR, mainly focused on several sets of siblings in both factions as their lives progress through the wars ahead. This will contain some spoilers, but will diverge from the main story arc and unify all stories together going into the Battle of Ilum. Will start rated-T for violence and language. Subject to change. Hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note:  
I've been reading a lot of great fan fics here over the past couple of years, and as a career change has afforded me some extra time, I feel brave enough to devote the time to putting out some work of my own. I hope you all enjoy it, reviews and constructive criticism are definitely welcome!

Children of Circumstance  
Chapter 1  
Dathomir's Orphans

Preschaet sat down and felt the dirt beneath him. Shade, it seemed, was a rare commodity back on Korriban where the young acolyte had recently completed 3 years of training. The Jungles of Dromund Kaas had proved to be a welcomed sight upon his return to the planet he had known as home for the 11 years prior to his admission into the Academy on Korriban.

 _Good Apprentice. Now breath deeply and reach out through the Force... Listen to what the soil has to say. Open your senses to the beasts of the jungle around you. Reach forward towards the Temple. What do you hear?_ Hearing the voice of his master within his mind was no longer unsettling to the young Zabrak apprentice.

 _It doesn't hurt that Darth Zash is easy on the eyes, either._

The 21 year old Zabrak drew a shallow and startled breath at the sudden tightness in his throat, his master's reach through the force, her measured application of the force choke tempered and released a mere few seconds later, as abruptly as it began. His master sensed the embrassment flushing over the apprentice had served as an adequate reprimand for his momentary lapse of focus and discipline. She still chose to put context and meaning to the action.

 _Remember this lesson child, always guard your thoughts. Do not be ashamed of your emotions, but do not let them consume you either. If you had fed your lust for fleshly desires on your recent birthday as much as you are rumored to have fed your lust for Corellian Ale, then perhaps you would not be so easily distracted by what you see on the surface._

His attention restored, Preschaet to a slow measured breathe and returned to his meditation, listening for the whispers from the soil beneath him. He felt the ebb and flow of the ancient world surround him. He began to taste the coppery note of the blood soaked soil from the innumerable apprentices that have trod the path ahead of him before, and failed. He felt the hundreds, now thousands of spirits consuming the now possessed vessels in the near distance.

 _What do you hear, apprentice? Can you sense what awaits you?_ Zash's calm voice inside his mind encouraged him to reach farther into the Dark Temple.

 _I hear the whispers and screams of all that have failed before me, my lady. They are still alive in body, but their minds consumed with the restless, bodyless spirits of the ancient Sith inside._

Slowly he exhaled the rest of his breathe and drew another. Reaching further he sensed the location of his objective, the tomb of an ancient Sith lord. The young apprentice felt a chill descend his spine, and uneasy presence stirring in the tomb he would soon be entering.

 _Master, I sense it's presence. It knows I am coming. This will not be easy, yet I sense I will come through this in one piece._

 _Very well, Apprentice. I leave you to your task. Bring me that artifact._

Preschaet opened his eyes and rose, still uncertain of how this spirit knew of his pending arrival. He thought back to the words his Father had shared with him as he was dying on Nar Shaddaa, shortly after they arrived.

 _We do not live until we have no fear of Death. We are not free so long as we yield to fear._

In the fallout of a disagreement over the share of a smuggling ran, a random blaster bolt had pierced his father's gut. As his mother shrieked in terror, clutching her dead husband and their infant daughter in her arms, he felt all the immense rage and anger well up inside him, as he rose and focused his rage at the man who inadvertently shot his father and roared. The rage within him rippled through the force, exploding the mans head. The surge of rage and power waned as quickly as the thugs head was replaced by a void in the air, full of viscera and pink mist.

Yet his actions sent a ripple out through the Force that anyone in the surrounding sector could feel. Strong enough was the boys rage to catch the notice of a young Sith lord named Vloek, who in turn followed the young boy for the next 3 years his duties kept him on the curiously felt some connection to his thoughts of his father and the premonition that the Sith spirit ahead was aware of his coming. "Fear has never been my pace before, and I don't intend to start slowing now," he mused aloud as he began walking towards the Dark Temple.

Bel'lia strode down the corridor towards the acolyte quarters, pausing only for a second as she passed her master's office. She knew that soon her would be sending her on her first off world trials, back to their adopted home world of Dromund Kaas, just as her older brother would be receiving such an assignment from his master, Darth Zash.

She chose to take the rare opportunity of having an evening free to dedicate the time to meditation. She felt an unsteady presence in the force. Something she couldn't put her finger on, but something that she sensed had an importance to both she and her brother, Preschaet. Where they finally close to finding the answer they spent so long in search of?

* * *

4 hours and a peculiar family reunion later, Preschaet let his mind wander as he dismounted his speeder in front of The Citadel. The descendants of an Ancient Lord named Kallig and rival of the Great Tulak Hord himself... He remember his childhood, how his father always skirted the question of their family's ancestry whenever he and his brother would ask. _Perhaps he never knew himself that we had apparently fallen from greatness. Or perhaps he knew of our family's history of force sensitivities and wished to shield us from the past..._

"Master, I return, again bearing the fruits of success." The apprentice grinned as he passed another artifact of Tulak Hord, The Lord of Hate.

"And yet again you prove to surpass my hopes for you, apprentice. Tell me, what is come of the ghost that wandered the tomb? How did you placate it?" Darth Zash intently waited to the tale of her apprentice's latest exploit.

"Well my Lady, apparently, this time my mere birth served all I'd needed. According to this ghost from the days of Tulak Hord himself, this Lord Kallig believes I am his heir. He claims to have sensed me through the force as my powers have grown."

"Remarkable child. Truly remarkable. This would certainly explain the depth of your connection to the force and the power that radiates within you. But alas, we have work yet to achieve my dear apprentice. Our work here is now done, and I have need of you to go to Balmorra. But as my apprentice, you will need your own way about the galaxy. I have a ship waiting for you at the spaceport. Contact me by holo once you arrive at Balmorra."

"Yes, my Lady." Preschaet immediately turned and started jogging to his speeder, eager to inspect his newly acquired ship.

As he strode into the hangar, his Dashade descended the ramp, having already arrived at his ship. "Come Little Sith, I hunger."

"Patience Khem, my dear friend, our feast is only begun, and we have a galaxy of enemies for you to satiate yourself with."

As he jogged up the ramp, Preschaet, still guarding his thoughts, remembered the warnings of his ancestor and his Dashade. And he smirked to himself. _Zash has already slipped, I saw her blink of fear. She knows of my ancestor, and she knows the potential of facing me. When the day comes, I will be ready._ Little did he know the irony of Zash's earlier lesson would have in store for him.

As he settled into meditation as the hyperdrive hummed from across the ship, Preshcaet focused back on the events of his youth. The one thought that always ate at him. His brother. Mordecar was taken by the Jedi when Preschaet was only 4. His parents fled to Nar Shaddaa in hopes to elude the Jedi taking their remaining children. Most of his native village was slaughtered when they resisted the commandos taking away their children to be taken to Coruscant.

Only Preschaet, his parents, his sister, and his Mother's midwife survived. He reached through the force and readily found Bel'lia, his sister, newly apprenticed to Darth Maledictum. The recently promoted Sith being the very Lord Vloek that first felt their presence in the force on Nar Shaddaa all those years ago, it was of little surprise to many that at least one of the siblings was apprenticed to their rescuers.

 _Sister._

 _Brother._

 _Shall we try again? We must find Mordecar. We must have some closure._ Even after 17 unsuccessful years Preschaet refused to give up hope of a reunion with their elder sibling.

 _And we one day shall, I just wish it would be today. Though it gives me strength, this wound affects us both. It serves as a festering hole in us, preventing us from giving our full attention each day._

Normally he would be angered with his sister's lack of faith, but something in him was changing as of late. He now found himself inclined to agree that indeed the void of their brother's absence cost them a portion of focus and strength. He isolated himself back into a deep state of introspection at the days events and discoveries while his ship continued it's flight through hyperspace. Something new crept into the young Sith's mind as his thoughts reached further... something he still hadn't considered about his brother... _If Mordecar ever finished the trials and became a Jedi, what if he leaves us no choice... What if Bel'lia and I must face him in battle? What can we do to sway him?_

* * *

Bel'lia rose from her meditation, the drawn out conversation with her brother and the revelation that they are the descendants of an ancient Lord leaving more questions than ever about her life. For the soon to be 18 year old apprentice, her family life was a tumultuous one, from her very first year.

She was left without her elder brother after the Jedi claimed him to be a youngling. She was left without a father after merely arriving in the Nar Shaddaa spaceport at the wrong time. Left without their mother after they were taken to Dromund Kaas as children by the man she know called Master, Darth Maledictum. The Sith deserved credit though.

He made sure their mother and her midwife, who was essentially an aunt to Bel'lia and Preschaet, were safely returned to their home world of Dathomir. He made sure their presence on Dathomir remained hidden from the Jedi and the Hutts, several of whom he had personally killed to prevent the only family his apprentice had left from a life of slavery and abuse. He even sent the occasional messenger to Dathomir with holos of the children and updates on how they were.

Just turned 32, Darth Maledictum was unusual and rare coming amongst the Sith. Already more powerful than his contemporaries, he was at least 30 years the junior of even the youngest Sith in consideration to take Darth Malgus's seat on the Dark Council. The ambitious young human ran a hand through his prematurely graying hair, a side effect of his deep meditation and self imposed stasis several months before taking on his newest apprentice. Darths Zash and Thanaton still goaded him daily in their attempts to learn the rituals that allowed him to survive in his self imposed stasis in the vacuum of deep space for 3 months after the betrayal and the self-destruction of Malgus's the Betrayer's Fortress, his late master.

The young Darth had a slight chuckle to himself at his first and only response and the groan the Darths gave when he said it. _One does not rise to greatness by divulging his resources to placate the whimsical curiosity of others. One must have knowledge of the void,to survive it one must become devoid._

His eyes, piercing orbs of amber, a distinctive trait common of Sith truly in communion with the Dark Side, turned to the sound of his apprentice nervously clearing her throat. He already sensed she wanted to asked a personal question of him. "Out with it my apprentice. You know my first and permanent demand of you is to seek knowledge, without reservation. Understanding others, Sith, Jedi, non-sensitives, the Force, knowledge of everything, the greatest understanding comes from asking the right questions."

She mustered the courage to ask her master why he went to such lengths to protect her family. "Apprentice, I was not much older than you brother when my siblings were taken from me. I saw the pain it caused my mother everyday until she gave up the will for life. That day I came to Dromund Kaas in search of a shuttle to Korriban." The Darth paused for a second to relish the rage he still felt when thinking of the years his mother languished in pain. "The day I felt your brother's scream through the force... that much rage..."

She did not wait for him to continue. "I see Preschaet and I have more in common with you than just our strength in the Force my Lord. Thank you."

The young Darth had long thought of his new apprentice and her brother as though they were his adopted siblings. He turned his head back to his apprentice to ensure she felt the weight of his next words, the rage for his mother's pain, the anguish of his own lost siblings, and the empathy and love he felt for his apprentice and her family. It all fed his power, now radiating from him with such heat and intensity Bel'lia thought she was standing between the twin Suns of Tattooine. "Emotions are a tool, apprentice. To master them is the greatest strength a Sith can have. To master the Force, one must master both their emotions, and the true nature of the Force itself. The time is right, you will have your first trial on Dromund Kaas."  
30 minutes later the two Sith settled into the lounge of the young Darth's ship, now leaving Korriban's atmosphere. "Quinn," barked the Lord, "Set a course for Dromund Kaas and jump to hyperspace immediately. My apprentice has a trial to begin and I must speak to an old friend at the Archives." The Captain quickly began his turn to the bridge to execute his orders at the same time he began to vocally affirm them with a speedy "Asyouwish, My Lord."

Darth Maledictum then turned and asked a question that would change his apprentice's, and her brothers' paths forever. "Tell me Bel'lia, what do you know of the life and philosophy of Revan?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

 **Geminis Sicarii**

Deus'Odio, Lord Wraith to most Sith, silently moved down the hallway behind the members of the Dark Council, doing his best to remain in the shadows. Opposite him strode Abgheir Selchior, his current partner in crime and the son of his best friend, Darth Maledictum.  
The Darth's 10 year old son showed remarkable adeptness at moving silently and swiftly through the shadows, disguising his presence with the Force. He was proving to be a quick student of his favorite "Uncle." At the end of the hall the Dark Lords of the Sith were turning to the right, save their quarry who turned left. As Lord Wraith reached the corner he motioned the young boy to hold his position.

He peered around the corner and up the hallway, seeing nothing ahead, and turned back to wave the boy ahead. Too late. The boy was already hanging upside down in mid air, giggling profusely, as Deus's twin sister round the corner. "Still haven't learned that you will never best me little brother?"

"Little by 4 minutes and 31 seconds," the younger twin quickly retorted.

His sister, Ira'Deae, also known as Darth Imperius, had already up righted the promising young acolyte. "Hurry up lad, your father will be waiting for you downstairs. You're both going home today." The twins shared a hug at Wraith's return from his last charge given him by Darth Maledictum. They then waved as the young boy bid his farewells. "Bye Aunt Ira and Uncle Deus. Visit mom and I soon!"

Before they could respond the child darted around the final corner of the corridor towards the lifts, eager to meet his father at his shuttle bay. Returning her attention to her twin, as he silently asked the question he had a million times before, _And where are the Dark Lords' watchdogs being sent to today_?

"Today, dearest brother, we get a step closer to the test we have long awaited."

Again using the force to speak silently with his sister, _They're sending us to kill a Jedi Master_?

 _Not just any Masters my dear brother. We head to Tattooine. And here's the juiciest part. We're going to start targeting none other than the Jedi Council!_  
His heart skipping a beat in anticipation, he asked, _Who are our first targets?_

 _I'm to kill Master Kiwiiks, while you're to kill Master Yonlach_ , she replied.  
Speaking aloud now, albeit in a hushed whisper "You mean Baras finally proved useful and found that old goat of a Jedi?" Stifling a giggle, she put an arm around her brother and led him down the corridor to the lifts to the lower levels of the Sith Academy. The portly Darth he had mocked was something of the Butt of All Jokes for many Sith, but never to the Dark Council member's face. Baras held enough sway to be campaigning that he is the Emperor's Voice and at least have the thought be entertained, between snickers and silent jokes about betting on the number of sweet rolls, donuts, or other various pastries he could consume in one sitting.

-

Several days later the finest assassins the Empire had to offer took their places near their quarry, pounced and ready to strike.

The elder twin watched as the lithe, young female padawan of Master Kiwiiks and another Jedi Knight ran off from the drained master who apparently was already run through the ringer by Darth Angral's antics. It would be a shame as the Master would be in no shape to put up much resistance. Although that thought was fleeting as something about this unknown Jedi resonated with her. The Zabrak Jedi's presence had a familiar energy... it would be something to meditate upon later. As well as the young padawan. She sensed something in them both.

Reaching out through the force she checked on her brothers status. _I'm in place, how has your search fared little brother?_

 _Well enough, and it looks like I get to have a BOGO special. One of Yonlach's former apprentices appears to be paying more than just a visit. Something to do with the Padawan that Baras is tearing the galaxy apart to find._

Both twins immediately thought of the need to reassess the situation, and immediately shared a silent laugh through the force having the same thought in unison, _Nah, Darth Pastry-Slayer doesn't get to have his way with the old man._

As Imperius was ardently focusing on concealing themselves within the force, Wraith used the Force to well up their shared power within them, preparing them for the respective fights ahead, yet remaining unnoticed by the Jedi so close to oblivion. The Twins made use of their powerful bond to perfectly pair their efforts and last question from elder to younger...

 _Ya ready for this shit, my dear brother?_

 _Let's do some gratuitous violence._

Kira Carsen fell abruptly to her knees, the very breath stolen from her lungs. Half the galaxy away, Jaesa Wilsaam also fell to her knees. The two young Padawans had now shared their first taste of the immeasurable void of a loved one's energy and very life ripped from the fabric of the Force. It set in motion echoes within them yet to be felt, aftershocks yet to be measured.

Lord Wraith revealed his presence in a blinding flash as he dropped from the unsuspecting Jedi Master's ceiling, throwing a cascading wall of force energy into both the Master and his former padawan. As they flew back he ignited his lightsabers, taking the aggressive Jar'Kai form. He reached through the force, surging ahead with light speed at the younger Jedi and suspended him in midair while he sliced off both his arms at the elbow. He then poured his rage into a scream that sent the young Jedi flying back into the wall.

Master Yonlach acted through the haze of seeing his former apprentice maimed, but not fast enough. The powerful Sith assassin parried the Master's first three strikes and took his saber hand just above the thumb with the 4th. Before Yonlach knew it, the young Sith lifted the Jedi Masters into the air, choking them. He sensed the mood of Yonlach shift, and felt quickly that he was in communion with another Jedi, one with a special connection to the Master. One unusually strong for a Master and Padawan to share. Without a glance he clenched his left first and the younger Jedi's throat gave way, his larnyx gurgling as it filled with his blood, before the sounds of snapping vertebra indicating that his spine had been severed and he gasped for air in his final dying seconds. The sight of this brought Master Yonlach back to the present.

"Curious Master Jedi... most curious indeed. Tell me... what makes this remote padawan so special? This lowly Padawan that Darth Baras seeks so desperately and you try to shield from the torment your former apprentice and yourself are about to endure?" Wraith's patience would only last if the Jedi, told him something of significance... and soon.

"She... has a... rare... gift," gasped the Master. Losing his grip, Wraith allowed the Jedi to continue. " Her power will be the end of your kind. That is all you will learn, and onl..." Yonlach's voice gurgled as his throat was again compressed, however this time Wraith used his lightsaber to take the Master's other hand. He already could tell the end of the Master's sentence involved the Sith not knowing til the curtains were coming down and the house lights would come up.

"We can do this to the Pain, my friend. I'm sure you've felt the ripple that tells you Master Kiwiiks has met her end. I can make this as painless as her death, or drag this out as long as need be..." The twins' bond was reaching through the force to tune into Yonlach's aura. They felt the Jedi reaching out through the force, trying to shield someone... someone Darth Baras wanted to know about very desperately. Suddenly the Master's force broke, just for a moment, but it betrayed all they'd needed.

Fulgen Prakellen, the apprentice of Darth Baras, was a classmate of the twins on Korriban and also Imperius's Lover. Through his bond to Imperius, he had nearly as strong a bond with Lord Wraith. He sensed their efforts and reached out to aid them. A picture quickly came to them that a matter of importance lie ahead in the hunt for this Padawan.

 _My love, my brother. I have heard you. I will leave at once._

On Dromund Kaas, Lord Fulgus dashed into his Master's office. "My Lord, Alderaan. The padawan we seek has a strong tie to Alderaan. It's time I make a house call on the Wilsaam family."  
"Indeed my apprentice, proceed at once Lord Fulgus. " The young Lord raced out to the space station, eager to arrive with the greatest of haste. Time was never on his side in this hunt.

At the same time Fulgen broke his link to Imperius and Wraith, Wraith gleamed a smile of victory at the Master. "Sorry old man, you're no match for us. I'll make sure my brother passes his regards to the Padawan's family. Lord Fulgus does love snow, so Alderaan will suit him quite well." As soon as the aged Jedi began to speak, the panic inn his eyes betraying the truth that Fulgen's hunt would serve him well on Alderaan, Lord Wraith crushed his skull. Yonlach shrieked in pain until bone gave way. Viscera and pink mist redecorated the interior of the late Master's desert hut.  
A nifty little trick he had learned from Darth Maledictum. He still refused to believe that a mere child had been the source of the technique. Yet the very child that Maledictum and his late Master had brought back from Nar Shaddaa helped him perfect the technique while the boy was still awaiting his time to go to Korriban and begin his trials.

In the far reaches of space, the terrible pain and violent end of Master Yonlach crushed the young Padawan. Master Nomen Karr looked upon his padawan with great concern. He sensed a rage and turmoil within her that had once fueled his powers as a young master. Carefully, he focused on hiding his past from her, and then did all he could to console his padawan while reciting the Dogma he despised.

"There is no death, only the force, child. Masters Kiwiiks and Yonlach are at peace and no longer suffering. Grief is inevitable in death, but do not let it consume you. Emotions only cloud you from the truth." Time would later tell that truer words were never spoken.

Back on Tattooine, Imperius and Wraith collected the lightsabers of their slain quarry, a tradition kept by many Sith. 300 miles away, on the far side of Mos Ila, Kira's new Master ran to her side. Her reddening eyes welled with tears, as she could only muster two words, over and over... "She's gone."

Master Kiwiiks had too little strength to put up a fight, and cheated as Imperius felt at that, she granted the master a quick death. She still chose to have what fun the opportunity afforded her and in short order, she removed the Jedi's head from her shoulders, and adeptly taking the late master's lightsaber, and with her second stroke, she skewered it and staked it back in it's place on the slain master's limp body before shutting off the fallen Jedi's saber.  
As the life drained from the late Master's eyes, Darth Imperius reached out to the orphaned padawan. _You walked right by me child. Take solace that your master died at peace. Your new master will have no such luck. Tell your precious Council we are coming for them_.

Master Orgus Din's holo crackled with incoming communications. Having just returned to his ship, he felt the terrible quakes in the force at the passing of two of his oldest friends. Activating his holoterminal, the familiar sight of the Jedi Council chambers filled the room. All the Masters bore somber faces in the wake of the morning's events. His former apprentice, a young Zabrak named Mordecai, was the first to speak. "My friends, Kira was contacted by one of the assassins. She reached out to her and spoke to her through the Force. It was Darth Imperius and her twin, Lord Wraith. It seems the Jedi Council is now the Dark Council's priority."

Grandmaster Satele Shan gathered her thoughts for a moment. "Everyone must go to the one of the third. The Empire will not likely seek us there. We have much to prepare for, and we no longer have the luxury of time. It seems that the Treaty Of Coruscant will not last the month." The severity of the tone of the Grandmaster was not lost on a single Jedi in that call. Cryptic as it may seem, the coded order for the Jedi Council and the Order's senior Knights and Masters to assemble on the Moon of Esseles was necessary. The Empire was growing more bold with their ever growing knowledge of the Order's activities and whereabouts. Somewhere was a crack in the facade of the Order's security and until it was repaired, the Jedi had little choice to regroup and maintain as small a footprint in the galaxy as they could.

-

Somewhere on the fringe of wild Space, near the outer rim world of Yavin, a group of hooded figures gathered around a console in a dimly lit room. "Time is fleeting. The Ire falls devoid." Servant Two's cryptic speech was a symptom of having such close communion with the power and voice of the emperor. Servant One as always began to interpret for the others of the Hand.

"The Jedi Council begins to flee, but we still do not know where. To make matters worse, I feel a tremor in the future. The Dark Council's assassins will prove to be too late. The Emperor's vessel will fall. Baras remains unchecked. Their will be bloodshed. But we know the Emperor's will, and we know whom he wishes to see ascend. The events will transpire as the Emperor has foreseen them. We will depart for Quesh and await the emergence of the New Wrath."

-  
Hours into his flight to Balmorra, Preschaet snapped awake. He felt the ripples of the dead Jedi in the force and the ebb of power from his friends Lord Wraith and Darth Imperius. Moving as it was, that did not rouse him from his sleep. Something more visceral and personal touched him.

 _You felt it, too, my brother._

Bel'lia was broken out of her meditation by the echoes of Master Yonlach's screams in the force _._ She reached across the galaxy to speak with her brother.

 _Yes Bel'lia. For the first time in a lifetime._

 _The scream of rage in his heart at the death of the Masters._

 _Yes my little sister. Mine made that same scream the day Father died._

Mordecar was out there. They had felt him. And they felt his attachment to his new Padawan. It was only a matter of time now...


End file.
